Shifting Memories
I bought some and counted the money in my wallet. Two hundred dollars still left. I walked out of the alleyway, shoving the stuff in my pockets as I went. The dark, eerie feel of the massive city around me felt so grey and boring. Everybody just walked around in their black suits, carrying suitcases, and completely ignoring everyone, but themselves. The bustling streets only made me feel uncomfortable as I inched past all the empty souled bodies that walked among me, shoving eachother out of their way so they could get to wherever they needed to go. Everything looked and felt the same as always. Everything was in place. As I neared the edge of the sidewalk and found myself at the crosswalk, I stopped. Something felt uneasy, something felt wrong. Something was out of place, and it felt as if it was right beside me. I turned in every direction I could as a crowd started forming behind me, waiting to be able to cross the street. I couldn’t find anything wrong, but I knew that something was out of place. As the small buzz filled my ears, the crowd pressed onward, as if they couldn’t feel it. I stood there staring at the air around me, squinting as hard as I could to try and find what was annoying me so much. The people pushed and shoved their way through me instead of just going around, until I was brought to my knees like some worthless peasant. This was different. Sure, people usually had little to no consideration for others, but I’d never been knocked down like that before. When everyone had crossed the traffic riddled street, I scrambled back to my feet and ran the rest of the way home. I found it exponentially hard to sleep that night. I could hear whispers coming from inside my head. One side said in a somewhat caring voice that something was wrong while the other argued in the opposite direction. Every now and then I would check the clock, making sure that I got enough rest for work in the morning. However, I just lay there, unable to get a single second of shut eye. Just as my heavy eyelids were about to close, a massive buzzing noise abruptly sieged my moment of joy. I knew that sound so well for some reason, even though I’d only gotten the clock yesterday. It was 10:00 AM. Time for work. I got out of my dingy old bed, feeling worse than ever. As I got up, I could feel all my bones cracking into place. Just as my feet hit the floor, I was doubled over in pain. My stomach felt so bare, that I felt as if I would fill it with my own flesh if I had to. As I gripped the flabby skin around my now extremely visible rib cage, I could only think about food and medicine. Anything to stop the unbearable pain. I slowly crept my way to the small apartment bathroom, gasping for air as I entered the doorway. When I got in and faced the mirror, I was shocked at what I saw. My face was deathly pale and plagued with wrinkles and small, black bags were visible under my eyes. My dark brown hair was scruffy, and I had started to grow some small whiskers under my chin. The thing that really got me though, was that my entire outfit had changed. Instead of the usual flannel pajamas I would wear every night at bed, I was dressed in some old rain jacket with an itchy cotton sweater, which was stained with sweat, under it. My eyes widened at the sight, when I suddenly felt that odd feeling again. Something was there. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there. It felt like an odd presence, standing near me. I turned and twisted my vision around the room, but I still couldn’t find anything wrong. I kept myself ready for anything, as I turned back towards the mirror. I stared deeply into my complexion, making out all the details. I had a few barely visible scars from what looked like fist fights along with what looked like finger nail marks. I touched the scars gently, careful not to sting myself. I was about to leave when I noticed something faint in the mirror. It was a figure, tall and skinny. I could barely make it out, but I could tell it was a woman. It started out as just a dark shape in the background, but slowly grew more and more detailed. It started out with color filling the figure; a nice tan brown. Next came the facial details. A joyous smile, sky blue eyes, a small, petite nose. Next came hair that seemed to grow for ages. Dusty blonde strands began to create the style she had it in. As it slewed down her back, I noticed that her smile had grown more crude and dark. I kept staring deeper into the mirror, which now held me captured. “You’re not real,” I yelled in frustration. “You’re dead, and you’re not coming back!” Even though I wanted to turn away, I just couldn’t. In my frustrated rage, I didn’t even notice that the hair that grew atop her head, seemed to be reaching its way towards me. “You always loved my hair, didn’t you darling?” She inquired. Something inside me died at that moment. Her voice wasn’t the same as before. No, her voice was full of deceit. I knew how to stop this. I knew how to get rid of her, but I needed to find the key. The key, the key, the key. I needed the key. Suddenly I snapped out of my trance and began scouring my coat pockets, looking for my way out of this nightmare. Every couple of seconds I would look into the mirror, making sure that the hair didn’t catch up to me and engulf my body. Just as the strands were inches away from me, I found my key. In my left pocket, there it was. I pulled it out, shut my eyes, turned around and quietly told the woman “I miss you,” just before I used the key. I opened my eyes, finding nothing but a wall in front of me. It worked. I didn’t know why I knew that it would work, but that wasn’t the point. Next I had breakfast and headed to work. I did the usual, got another key to protect myself, and headed back home. This time, when I was just walking down a fairly empty sidewalk, some guy came over and tripped me intentionally. I fell to the hard pavement with a thud as the man in a black suit walked by as if he’d done nothing. I got back up to my feet, with aching joints and began to walk the rest of the way home. As I neared the crosswalk, I got that same odd feeling once more. As a crowd of people began to surround me, all waiting to walk across, I saw something. It was her again, standing across the street. I suddenly stood there, shocked. My back stiffened and I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t move a single muscle. She stood there, an unwavering smile capturing her devious enigma. Her hair had started to grow again. This time it was getting longer than before, and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t stop until it incarcerated me. I need the key again. The key, the key, the key. I searched my pockets once more, holding my breath as I did. I looked around the crowd, which gave me odd glances back now and then. How could they not see this? There was a wave of hair crawling its way there, but nobody seemed to care. I couldn’t focus on that, though. I was about to lose hope when I found my weapon of choice once more. I pulled it out and used it once more. My eyelids twitched slightly. This was making me insane. She was dead, and I knew it, but I kept seeing her. I looked around the crowd, which seemed taller than they were just a few seconds ago, and gave me disgusted looks. However, soon a faint buzz was heard and everyone had left. I walked the rest of the way home that day. I awoke to the sunlight which shone through the window. What came when I opened my eyes scared me half to death. I wasn’t in the same place I was yesterday. I looked about my surroundings. I was in a car, my car to be exact. I was sleeping there using a pile of dirty clothes as a pillow. What the hell was going on? One day, I was in my apartment, barely getting any sleep and the next I’m sleeping in my car on a street I don’t recognize. I sat up slowly, my aching bones causing me some severe pain. In my pockets I found some aspirin. I took two, trying to keep my mind off food. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in months. My stomach growled and twisted as I reached down to grab a small hand mirror. I looked even worse than before. My hair looked ridiculous and was full of grey strands of hair mixed with the usual dark brown. It stretched down my shoulder blades and reached into my tattered grey tee-shirt. My face was full of extremely visible scars and dried blood, which hid a few of the wrinkles that layered my face. I suddenly had a full grown beard, which had a few small crumbs stuck in it. As I gazed deeper into the mirror, I started noticing small things changing in front of me. First I saw that some loose, dusty blonde hair was stuck to my partially torn shirt. I tried to wipe it off as I looked in the mirror, but it felt like it wasn’t even there. I blinked and suddenly, I saw a slip of paper. It was a note. I tried my hardest to pick it up, but it was just like the hair, it was barely there if it was even there at all. I turned the mirror slightly so I could see what it had to say written crudely in black pen. I’ve lost days, weeks, months, hell maybe even years now, I can’t even tell. Everytime I look myself in the eyes, I just realise how damn pathetic I am. What the hell has this city done to me? First it takes my wife, to next take my life. I keep seeing her. I don’t want to, because I know that she’s gone, but it’s hard to let go. She’s taking over my mind, and I don’t know what to do. Everytime I use the key it only delays her next visit. I can’t live like this. Whatever the case, I’ll wake up one morning and completely forget everything except my past before all this and hopefully I’ll know that she’s after me, so that I know to use the weapon. Oh, god even now I find myself crying over her soul. She was so sweet to me. She picked me up, gave me a fighting chance, and love. I miss her so much, but I can’t let her be my demise. I froze. Did I write this? What was I missing? I put away the mirror, only to feel a pair of chilling fingers reach down my arm, caressing it. I took in a large gulp and held my breath. Next I felt the slight tickle of a few strands of hair atop my shoulders, and a quiet voice which told me “Never let go.” At that moment I slammed open the car door, heart pounding and fell to the ground. I was weaker than I expected. After I got up off the cold, hard pavement, I made a mad dash down the street. All I could hear was the blood flowing through my veins, and my pounding heart. I kept running through the streets as people gave me odd glances. The key, I needed the key. I kept going until I finally found my usual spot to buy one of the keys. I raced down the alleyway, when I saw the usual merchant standing there. When I reached him, I scoured my pockets for money, but I found nothing. As I searched, the man put his hands on my shoulders trying to stop me. “Listen man, you’ve been in this business for twenty five years now, and I’m worried about you.” I couldn’t scavenge the money, so I reached in my back pocket and pulled out an old carving knife. The next thing I knew, the man had fallen to the ground, clawing for oxygen. I ran right past him without any thought and reached for the drugs that sat in the street in large bags. After that, I ran without looking back. Author's Note This was done quickly and wasn't proof read, so I'm sorry if there are a lot of spelling and grammatical errors. Check out some awesome pastas on this wiki like: Buttons Or one of mine like: It's All It Took Refreshing Demise (talk) 07:12, January 2, 2014 (UTC) Category:Creepypasta Category:Creepypastas Category:Original Story Category:Real Life